


Baby

by Little Spoon (AlwaysTheLittleSpoon)



Series: Occasionally Domestic [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Biting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Grinding, M/M, Making Out, Nicknames, Pet Names, Scenting, Sharing Clothes, Stiles Stilinski is a Little Shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 01:51:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9526553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlwaysTheLittleSpoon/pseuds/Little%20Spoon
Summary: When Stiles was fifteen, he dubbed DerekSourwolf, and unfortunately for Derek, the name stuck. In retrospect, Derek didn't really mind all that much, especially if it was a breathless whimper in his ear.Funny thing is, Derek didn't have a pet name for Stiles.





	

When Stiles was fifteen, he had, much to Derek’s chagrin, dubbed the former Alpha, Sourwolf, and despite his best efforts, the nickname had stuck. It wasn’t the only name Stiles had for him - in fact, there were many, possibly dozens - but it was by far the most favoured.

Now that they had been dating for a little over a year, the name had evolved into a term of endearment lost on anyone else. But Derek could hear the softness in Stiles’ voice whether the nickname was snapped in frustration, snarked sarcastically, or hummed in contentment. But his favourite inflection came as a breathless whisper, like now, with Stiles’ head tilted back, eyes closed as Derek pressed his fragile human companion into the bed.

Stiles’ long legs were hitched high as Derek bent the flexible body in half and slowly rut against him. They were both still wearing pants, though Stiles’ Batman boxer briefs peeked through his open fly, and his long fingers gripped at Derek’s biceps, nails biting into tender flesh as Stiles rocked up against his thrusts while Derek’s lips lazily roamed against salty skin.

Derek pulled back to admire his handiwork. Stiles’ pupils were full blown, and love bites littered his bare chest. Derek’s wolf rumbled in pleasure at seeing his boyfriend so thoroughly debauched and wholly claimed. He languidly ground down against his lover, biting back a low moan as blunt nails scored down his back, and he dove back in, capturing Stiles’ swollen lips in a tender kiss that didn’t quite match the sexually charged atmosphere.

But Derek couldn’t help it. He truly loved the man beneath him, and Stiles deserved to be worshipped.

Against all odds, they had found comfort in each other far from home. Stiles had always been the annoying human that called him names and drove him insane with mindless chatter and general disregard for his own life, but he’d grown up. A shock, to be sure. But truthfully, they both had.

New York had been good for Stiles. Derek couldn’t have been more proud of his boyfriend, though they had merely been hesitant friends when Stiles first made the hard choice to walk away from the only place he had called home.

For now, however briefly, they were back in Beacon Hills for the holidays. Two weeks of discomfort and awkward social encounters. Most of the pack, while they understood the choice, still felt abandoned by their human packmate.

Originally, Stiles had decided to fly home alone for the winter break at his father’s insistence, but after finding Stiles alone in their Upper West Side loft on the verge of hyperventilation at the thought of going home, Derek made the easy decision to go with him regardless of how many times Stiles had insisted it wasn’t necessary.

Derek pulled back, supporting his weight on his elbows, and smiled shyly down at his boyfriend. Stiles looked soft. There was no other way to put it. With his hair mussed, lazy smile, and heavy-lidded gaze, Derek wanted to bundle him up and hide him away for his eyes only.

Sitting back on his heels, Derek glanced at the clock.

“What? What is it, boy. Did Timmy fall down the well?” Stiles cackled, fighting off the pillow Derek tried to smother him with.

“No.” Derek tossed aside the pillow and nipped playfully at Stiles’ jaw. “But it’s nearly six.”

“What? Oh shit. Dinner!” Stiles scrambled off the bed. While he fought to zip his fly, he nearly face-planted. “Dad’s gonna kill me.”

Amused, Derek watched from the bed, sprawled on his back with an arm behind his head, as Stiles hopped around the room on one foot while trying to put on his sneakers.

“I’ll call you later, sourwolf,” Stiles called. He tugged on a shirt and sprinted for the door, still pulling on his hoodie as he left.

“Stiles, that’s-” The loft door slammed closed. “My shirt,” Derek finished, partially sitting upright.

Derek collapsed back onto the mattress with a sigh. Their combined scent clung to the sheets, and he rolled onto his stomach to bury his nose in a pillow to inhale deeply. Even though Stiles hadn’t slept with him most nights they were in town, his presence remained. Still, it wasn’t enough.

By ten in the evening, Derek was slinking around the Stilinski property and listening intently for signs the Sheriff was still awake. Instead, he heard the soft sniffle of Stiles quietly stifling panicked sobs.

Derek was through the window and wrapping his arms around Stiles before he his mind caught up with his instincts. The scent of grief and sadness in the air was overpowering. Derek whined softly.

“It’s alright. I’m here. Please don’t cry, baby,” Derek murmured into Stiles’ hair. It smelled like the pear blossom shampoo Stiles insisted on using, but it couldn’t hide the scent of his distress. “I hate when you cry.”

Derek kissed Stiles’ forehead and gently wiped the stray tears from his boyfriend’s flushed cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. The whisky eyes he loved so much were rimmed with red and puffy. It took him a second to realize Stiles had stopped breathing and was staring at him in wide-eyed silence.

“Stiles. Stiles, what’s wrong?” Derek asked, a little frantic. His hands fluttered uselessly, trying to find the source of panic.

“You called me baby,” Stiles breathed, voice barely a whisper, but Derek’s ears easily picked up.

Derek blinked, thinking back on his own frantic concern. “I’m sorry,” he said and looked down. “It just slipped out.”

“No! No, I liked it,” Stiles assured. He reached out and clasped Derek’s hands in his. “It’s just, you’ve never...”

Ducking his head, Derek gave Stiles a shy smile before he swooped in to steal a chaste kiss. “What’s wrong, baby boy,” he murmured. Stiles shivered against him, and he drew Stiles’ against him, tugging him into his lap until he straddled his waist. “Why the tears?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Stiles said with a sad smile. He lay a hand over Derek’s as it brushed away his tears. “I’m being stupid. Don’t worry about it.”

“You may be a lot of things,” Derek said. “But stupid is not one of them.”

“Well...” Stiles bit his lower lip, trying not to smirk. “When you shift, your eyebrows disappear, and I can’t understand you anymore because you’re rendered mute without-”

Derek tackled Stiles to the bed and viciously attacked his sides with tickling fingers until his boyfriend was wriggling beneath him and giggling madly. “I stand corrected,” he grunted. “You’re a complete moron.”

“Uncle! Uncle!” Stiles shrieked. His limbs flailed in an attempt to fight off the attack.

“Let’s not bring Peter into this,” Derek groaned, flopping onto his side beside Stiles. He let the panting human curl into his side and threw an arm around him. His fingers tangled in Stiles’ messy spikes.

“My dad’s selling the house,” Stiles finally whispered. “I’m not here anymore, and he’s alone...”

“I’m sorry.” It wasn’t fair. It was understandable, but it wasn’t fair.

The room fell quiet. Derek listened to Stiles’ quiet breathing and fluttering heartbeat as he settled in, body curled into the warmth Derek offered him. Closing his eyes, he rested his forehead against Stiles’.

“So... baby boy, huh?” Stiles’ drawled, and Derek opened his eyes to find Stiles watching him with sharp eyes and a sly smirk. “Does that make you my daddy?”

Growling, Derek smothered the brat with another pillow.

**Author's Note:**

> You can stalk me on Tumblr here: [Always the Little Spoon](http://always-the-little-spoon.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Part of the Sterek A-Z, weekly one word prompts, challenge being done on Tumblr with [isthatbloodonhisshirt](http://isthatbloodonhisshirt.tumblr.com/).


End file.
